As is appropriate for such a theme, my Bibliotheca clutter post comes a day (well, three) late and a dollar short. As such, and out of an abundance of irony, I've tried to keep the post itself well-organized.
As is appropriate for such a theme, my Bibliotheca clutter post comes a day (well, three) late and a dollar short. As such, and out of an abundance of irony, I've tried to keep the post itself well-organized.
This bimonthly Bibliotheca theme is names, and it knocked loose a memory long since stuck in the corners of my skull:
Remember when lolitas all had aliases?
For those who want light-hearted writings to keep you content: skip this one entirely.
I'm still writing about the lolita fashion community here, but more abstractly and dispassionately than usual.
This is still a blog post, though, so no proper citations unless y'all specifically ask.
I blame this post entirely on Avina and Beby. Go check them both out; they're cool and stylish people who will enrich your life.
Note that this post, unlike most of what I write, is not entirely (or even mostly) about J-fashion. It's about an essentially global supertrend which envelops almost the whole cultural zeitgeist, from film to advertising to music to clothing. It's also pretty high falutin' language-wise: this is me going hog wild.
Nostalgia rules contemporary fashion. With the current polycrisis, history seems to be an out for many, from kids just dipping their toes into fashion to the mature creative directors at the helms of established fashion houses.
The Bibliotheca prompt this time around is sprout, and the idea sprouted from my personal experiences in Chicago before and after the Great Lace. I have a little recap post for the event itself, but this post here is completely ancillary to those happenings. This is about sanctuary and how I strive to provide it. This gets really dense and grim, so please do not read if you're unprepared for serious matters.
After giving myself a couple weeks to let things sink in and rub some of the gild off my awe for the gilded 19th century, I've decided to go over my experiences at The Great Lace. In short: I had fun! In long, well. . .
Some weirdo who calls themself frillSquid made the suggestion of cycles for Bibliotheca's January/February theme, so now I have to follow through. It's far too late to go with New Year's or Groundhog Day as a central point of the post, so I'm going with something that I think about frequently: trends.
Sugar, spice, and everything nice: these are what belated Bibliotheca themes are made of.
The idea of sugar, for a lolita, inevitably brings to mind the sweet substyle. I am allegedly sweet-challenged: my coordinates, though sometimes sweet by my standards, never quite meet the expectations of the true-blue sweet lolitas in my comm. So why not create a working definition? This way, I can grade myself on sweetness and see where my performance needs improvement.
Hey lolitas, need a last minute Halloween costume? That's not very OTT of you, but I get it.
Why not dress up as another lolita, one with a consistent(ly bad) coording style?
That's right, this is the one and only guide to dressing up as me for Halloween! I have no idea why anyone would want to dress as a total unknown, but it's your choice, and I respect that.
For a scarce handful of days, I thought I was done with this topic.
Then my senses returned. I can never shut up.
With that, welcome to the second installment in the lolita color theory series! This time, I'm going to go into a little more depth about three topics: color schemes, color matching, and why sweet prints in black colorways are difficult.
Reading the previous installment is a nice bonus, but this post should be understandable regardless.
Okay, this is a real one.
Color theory is often espoused as one of the keys to personal style. You might be familiar with one of a variety of color seasons systems, which lives alongside Kibbe types and somatotypes in the realm of aesthetic astrology (although medical astrology did historically have an aesthetic element).
And, right under the wire, it's the Bibliotheca post! This theme is defiance, which has a lot of pertinence in the current moment in D.C. I'm going to ignore these relevant reasons and instead focus on something simpler: how can femininity be rebellious?
Recently (by which I mean a couple months ago), I finished sewing a dress and headdress set that I'd started sometime in autumn last year. Sewing makes me ask plenty of questions, including: why was I born? What cruel force of fate would make my bobbin thread run out like that? Why does my machine sound like the shopping mall version of industrial music? Where the hell did I put that pattern piece?
The most important question, of course, is the simplest one of all: is sewing my own lolita clothing even worth it? (Spoiler: it depends). In documenting my sewing project, I'd like to take you along on my personal decision making process to see if sewing is the right choice at all.
The lolita rules are a perpetually lurking bogeyman. Newbie lolitas are, to this day, told to beware breaking the rules, or face the fatal consequence of being called ita.
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| whenever we discuss the rules, I think of Fairly OddParents |
The later Lolita Fashion Wiki Beginner's Guide doesn't even use the term rules, instead using the terms "hints" and "guidelines". Most recently, Lovelylaceandlies has compiled a wonderfully updated version of the rules, which includes the constant refrain: the rules are helpful, but they're not legally binding.
Here's my first theme post for Bibliotheca since my extended absence.
I'm not too keen on the theme of baggage, really-- I like being playful and creative with my interpretations, and the allegorical meaning of baggage is far from cheery. I also don't vacation much: my trip to The Great Lace was the furthest from home I'd been in ages. But I'm no coward, so here's a post about what to carry. Since I don't travel much, I'll focus on everyday items.
Hello!
Reports of my demise have been slightly exaggerated. I've just been in a bad place (the Washington DC metropolitan area) and not in a great mental space to post.
Anyway, here's a recap of major stuff I missed writing about.
I'd like to briefly rehash an old argument about terminology and Chinese brands here.
This is my last post of 2024, so it only seems right to make it about farewells. Once again, this is a Bibliotheca theme post. This time, I'm going to extend it past fashion topics and into the realm that got me into this mess to begin with: conventions.
This post precipitated out of the current litigation over whether mainstream influencers with near-identical content have defensible intellectual property rights to the stylistic aspects of their work and personal image. Influencers seem to have a role in so many fashion ecosystems, yet the lolita community doesn't really support this niche.
This is the first of two Bibliotheca theme posts I'm doing for this rotation: I recommended both themes, so I feel duty-bound to speak on both farewells and soup. I'm a big soup person: I love calling coffee and other such concoctions soup.
I recommended soup with the intention of discussing the most important lolita soup of all: laundry. Wash your damn clothes.